Sleep
by Majuscule Milquetoast
Summary: Tweek and Craig in a field. Pointless fluff that I found in the depths of my computer.


His eyelids drooped, feeling heavy all of a sudden. His pale eyelashes flickered shut, and soon he was all but dead to the world, the quiet snoring and unintelligible mumbles alerting the boy beside him.

"Tweek?" A small knowing smile appeared on Craig's lips when he saw the sleeping figure, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. Tweek was an insomniac and had gone the last three days without out a wink of sleep, Craig knew he would just crash out at some point. He was just glad it was here, in the shade of the pine trees on an unusually sunny afternoon, in safety and not in anywhere crazy. The last thing he would want would be for Tweek to be in the hands of Stan's Gang as they embarked on another misadventure.

He was going to tell him something but it could wait till later, Tweek getting rest was more important right now – Craig was starting to worry about his health. He doesn't understand how he can deprive himself of sleep for so long, Craig usually just passes out the second his head hits the pillow and doesn't wake up again until his alarm starts screaming at him to get up in the morning.

But, for Tweek, it's a different story entirely. Craig knows that his mind works different to others, and night-time is usually when his paranoia is at its worst, making monsters out of shadows and every little noise a mass murderer. Of course, everyone has nights like this, when they wake up from a nightmare or hear a strange noise in the early hours of the morning and immediately jump to conclusions, but for Tweek, it's all the more real. The poor kid has night terrors near every time he shuts his eyes. He lives to see the sunrise, to know his safe for another twelve hours until he has to do it all over again.

He calls Craig in the middle of the night a lot, and Craig comes every time. Usually when he gets there Tweek's in a bad state, his blonde hair even more dishevelled than usual and his coffee brown eyes wide with fear. He's always sweating and red faced, heart beating faster than a hummingbird and screaming delirious words that Craig struggles to make sense of. Sometimes, he cries, curling up on himself into a little ball of safety, refusing to come out until the sun appears. He knows Tweek would have him over every night if he could, but doesn't want to be a hassle so spends all night fighting away the creatures of his imagination, the demons in his head.

It makes Craig feel horrible, like he's responsible for it all somehow, he wished he could just make it all go away, so Tweek would never have to be scared ever again. But he can do nothing, nothing but stand there and watch as Tweek slowly drives himself to insanity. Although, Tweek is a lot stronger than most think, Craig knows first-hand that you shouldn't underestimate him physically or mentally. Craig just knows he's going to be there for Tweek, no matter the cost.

Maybe he really cares for Tweek. Craig blinked, thinking about it, he had never cared for someone else as much as he does Tweek. Someone that he would kill for. No, _die_ for. Craig looked to his left, seeing the individual of his thoughts. Tweek was lying on the grass, his messy blonde hair fanned out around his head in a ridiculous manner and a small smile on his lips. He looked at peace. It's rare to ever see Tweek like this, when his violent twitches have subdued to soft shivers and when a real-life genuine smile on his face. Craig always thought Tweek looked nice when he smiled.

Suddenly Tweek frowned, knitting his eyebrows together. Craig wondered what he was dreaming about; Craig never dreamt, even if he did, he could never remember it. One hand lay still at Tweek's side while the other grasped the empty air.

"What _are_ you doing?" Craig mused, smiling slightly in simple amusement.

Without warning, something cold grabbed Craig's own hand. He stifled a gasp and looked down to see that it was Tweek, his hand linked with his. That smile had reappeared on Tweek's face and he seemed content now, continuing with whatever dream he was having.

Craig chuckled, laying down beside Tweek on the grass. Here he was, fingers entwined with another boy as they lay in a meadow and watch the clouds. And you know what, Craig didn't care. It was Tweek, after all.


End file.
